Best Kiss
by sultal
Summary: The Disney Golden Awards reveal much more to a young Wendy and Peter than they expected.
1. Chpt 1: Disney Golden Awards

**Hi everyone. I appreciate the patience with all of my other stories - I have not forgotten. I am story boarding to make sure that the chapters are intricate and twisty. That does unfortunately take time but the next few chapters for Anger is Red & Betrayal is Black are almost ready to be posted (at least by x mas). After two weeks, I should be able to produce a lot, because I go on break. **

**But, in the meantime, I wanted to give everyone a reward for the continued support as I finish grad school and waste time not writing. This is a story that I was asked to write for a friend, younger than I. Convinced that she would never be beautiful, she was willing to accept that she was "no good." Now I do believe that scientifically, beauty does matter. But, what matters more is certainly the person. That is what separates the beauties from the beasts.**

** So, here is a coming of age story I adapted from a Red Handed Jill chapter (which is not ready for posting). I turned it into a 6 -7 chapter short story. I will post 3 chapters now to tide you over for Thanksgiving. The next 3 -4 will be up throughout the week. SO...Happy Thanksgiving. Here is a little story I hope you like and is my way to say THANK YOU readers.**

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**Chapter One: Disney Golden Awards**

"Welcome!" Fireworks sparkled and fizzed over the thundering applause. Mickey Mouse raised both hands to the sky. The fireworks reflected off his perfect, crispy clean white gloves. "Welcome to the 90th _Disney_ Golden Awards!"

A second wave of fireworks spiraled from the stage, dusting the air with color and exploding in the rafters. The light spilled from _Cinderella's Castle_ illuminating the vacant _Walt Disney World Resort_ with rainbows.

What a night! Music from every soundtrack mixed with excitement as dignitaries flounced across the ballroom in dazzling costume. Ninety years of Disney cinema had again come to life from the abscesses of mere imagination.

"What a stunning display!" Mrs. Fieldmouse, representative for _Warner Bros._, elbowed her way through reporters for _Fox Animation _, _Dreamworks_, _Nest Entertainment/Rich Animation_, and _ITC Entertainment_. Happily ignoring rude commentary from _The Last Unicorn's _Butterfly and _Anastasia's _Bartok, Mrs. Fieldmouse flashed a smile to the cameras.

"Folks neither words nor live television can describe the scrumptiousness of this annual gala! Every year _Disney_ compiles the votes of all animated characters – Disney and Non-Disney – to celebrate those famous Disney personalities and present them with a _Disney _GoldenAward!"

Mrs. Fieldmouse quivered with excitement. "Of course, we all just crave to see who will win those fantastic awards, such as _Best Hero, Best Heroine, Best Villain, Best Female Song, Best Male Song, Best Dress, Best Couple, Sexiest, Kindest, Funniest, Most Magical_. And don't forget that ever luscious _Best Kiss_!"

Mrs. Fieldmouse paused to _awe_ and _ooo_ with the _Disney_ audience at a third fireworks display. Bouncing on her heels, the mouse returned to the camera.

"Rumor has it that the traditional rewards are a matter of contention, what with the new voting audiences and new _Disney_ cinema produced this year! For instance…is Princess Rapunzel destined for the Best Hair Award for a second year, what with the release of _Brave_? Or will voters settle back to days of yore: to Ariel's rippling red head? Cruella DeVille's white and black cut? Or Princess Pocahontas's glossy black mane?"

Mrs. Fieldmouse jumped, her skirt flaring as Flynn Rider careened over her shoulder. "TEAM RAPUNZEL!" he hooted into the camera, sloshing wine from his glass.

"Oh my!" Mrs. Fieldmouse squealed as Aladdin – dressed in gold silk – hauled Flynn from the cameras. "Oh my! Well it's certainly going to be a hassle predicting this year's _Prince Charming Award_. Oooo…I must say!"

Licking her lips, Mrs. Fieldmouse strutted across the velvet carpet. "And as for that lucky lady that wins the _Best_ _Princess Award_, who can say? Speaking of Princesses, why don't we take a peak at the dressing room door, right over yonder."

Tiptoeing past a squabble of McDucks, Mrs. Fieldmouse stroked a pink door as if it were made of gold.

"Behind these doors, my lovely TV audience…" she said dramatically, "…are the stunning _Disney_ lady nominees! In a matter of minutes they will be presented formally to the ballroom floor, wherein a handsome gentleman will take one by her little hand…" Mrs. Fieldmouse sighed dreamily, "…and lead them in the first dance of this magical night! Eeee the shivers up my tail!"

The cameraman threw a thumbs up, signaling for a commercial.

Obliviously, Mrs. Fieldmouse grinned at the camera. "Then, after the last bow and final curtsey…the music will cease! The master of ceremonies will take the stage…and the _Disney_ Golden Awards will be presented! Oh what a night! What a wonderful, splendid, splendid…what? Oh…commercial?"

Shaking the stars from her eyes, Mrs. Fieldmouse leered into the camera lens. "Time for a commercial!" she sang, scratching her painted nails on the pink door.

"We'll let beauty beautify inside! When we come back from this commercial break, it will be time for…well…Princesses on Parade! Hee hee…_Swan Princess_ crew, that one was for you! Hee hee! Princesses on Parade!"


	2. Chpt 2: Princesses On Parade

**Chapter 2: Princesses on Parade**

The pretty pink door was a barricade to a war zone.

Within the dressing room princesses where attacked by mushroom clouds of blush, toxic wafts of perfume, swamps of lip-gloss, and lethal four inch heels.

Fairy-godmothers flocked the skies, mending imperfections for their respective godchildren. Those without fairy-godmothers were helped by animal friends. And those without animal friends invested deep faith in her natural beauty.

Mirrors were crowed with puckered lips and dramatic poses, reflecting each princess's confidence that she was going to be belle-of-the-ball. Only one contestant's eyes were downcast from the mirrors.

Wendy sat alone.

Separated from the intimidating glamour, her hair still wet from the shower and dripping onto her bathrobe, Wendy turned a perfume bottle over her hands, pretending not to hear the gossip.

"She's not even a princess."

"You don't have to be a princess to be nominated, you know."

"Well you would know best, Mulan."

"What was she nominated for?"

"Most likely smallest cup size."

"Such a waste of time: she doesn't have anything to wear."

"Look at her just sitting there. I bet she doesn't know the difference between eyeliner and lipstick."

"Why was she even nominated?"

Wendy bit her lip. Why _was_ she even nominated?

The pink door bulged under the weight of the ballroom music. A fresh rush of anxiety dispersed the gossiping princesses as the good fairies twittered over their heads, "Almost time ladies! Make haste! Make haste!"

"Oh land sakes!" Charlotte La-Bouffe – honorary princess – bounced across the dressing room, flinging glitter in her wake, "Isn't this just a'thirlling! So much to absorb! I'm jittery as a tadpole! Oh Princess Cinderella, do those glass slippers need a'buffin? Oh Princess Aurora, decafe or caffine? Oh Princess Rapunzel, I see your comb there over yonder! Oh Princess Snow White, here's that lipstick you wanted!"

Flipping back her obsidian bob, Snow White shook her head.

"No need, Charlotte." Refused the pale princess in a voice like poisoned honey. "I want a different hue."

Regally, Snow White reached across Wendy and plucked a lipstick from the girl's vanity. Invading the mirror space, the princess smoothed the lipstick across her thick lips. With a finishing smack, she turned imperially to Wendy.

"Blood red."

Wendy tried to smile, though she felt very small.

"You…look so pretty." She offered timidly, as Snow White dabbed delicately at her mascara. Breathing deeply, Wendy watched Snow White inspect her flawless milky skin. "I...I wish that I knew how to…well…how put all this on as well as you."

Searching Snow White's reflection for the slightest acknowledgment, Wendy ventured again, "I've never used make up, you see. And…my mother wasn't allowed to come in with me."

Snow White paused, index finger suspended over her eyebrow. A vanity aside, Aurora and Jasmine exchanged sly grins.

"Never?" asked Snow White, still looking in the mirror.

Wendy shook her head. "Never."

"_And_ _never_." Aurora gushed, slinking behind Wendy, "_Is an awfully long time_. Right, Darling?"

"And this is a whole new world for you," said Jasmine, jumping into the triangle.

"On your first _Disney _Golden Awards nomination." added Snow White, twirling Wendy's pony tail – a little too tightly. "Would you like a princess makeover?"

Wendy's face glowed. "Truly?"

"Truly." Auroa chimed, spinning Wendy's back to the mirror. "Anything for a fellow nominee."

Wendy smiled but couldn't help squeezing her fingers together as the princesses converged, holding all sorts of cosmetics like switch knives. "Thank you so much. It's awfully sweet of – ouch!"

"Just eyeliner." Jasmine purred, pointing to her own eyes. "Like what I'm wearing. See? It brings out your eyes. Really makes them pop."

"Oh…well…if you say – "

"So what were you nominated for?" Snow White interrupted, smothering something sweet and gooey onto Wendy's lips. Trying to suppress a cough, Wendy fought to sit upright.

"Well…I uh…I don't know. But my mother said no one knows until Mickey calls them to stage –"

Aurora laughed. The perfume vials quavered. "Silly! Everyone has at least some idea! You know…like Audrey and Mulan are _eternally_ in the running for Biggest Jocks."

Wendy cringed as Jasmine jabbed a curler at her eyelashes.

"Jane and Belle…Biggest Nerds."

Snow White blew pink powder. Wendy sneezed.

"Esmerelda, Jessica, Megara… Biggest Slu—um –Sexiest."

"Oh how funny, I have it!" Aurora leaned over Wendy's shoulder, "Do you think you got nominated for Sexiest?"

Wendy gagged.

"Me?" Red with unfounded embarrassment, Wendy shook her head. "Oh no. Oh goodness no –"

"Awwww look at her, that's so adorable." Snow White angled a thin eyebrow. "Don't be shy. You _must_ think you're pretty. Don't you?"

Frozen with indecision, Wendy mouthed shapeless answers. "…I...I…well…" Other princesses were pausing to stare. Some were suppressing giggles. Some were shaking their heads. Wendy's face burned under the attention as Aurora and Jasmine smeared makeup over her face while commanding her to admit she was pretty.

"Don't fret, little Darling." Show White suddenly interrupted. With an acidic smile, she turned Wendy's face to the vanity. "Just look. See how pretty you are now?"

Wendy's mouth dropped.

Disgustingly vibrant colors caked her face. Blue lips, pink concealer, green mascara, and an assortment of purple beauty marks complete with a thin black moustache and monocle sketched with eye liner.

Wendy blinked and body glitter sprinkled over her cheeks. Numbly, she looked up into the barrel of a levitating blowdrier. Tinkerbell sneered briefly before powering the blowdrier into Wendy's eyes. The body glitter heated and crusted over her skin.

"Stop it! Please!" Wendy batted at the blowdrier, then at the mirror (which was also chuckling). The blowdrier reeled, bucking Tinkerbell like a donkey but the laughter of the princesses surpassed the roar.

"Let's do her hair next!"

"Someone grab my crimper!"

"Gel! Hand me the gel!"

"Little Miss Quasimodo!"

"Think you can be a real princess now, do you?"

"The gel! Here! Now hold still…"

"Eh hem! Eh hem! Ladies."

Glittering in pink, Minnie Mouse stood in the pink doorway. She was a petite presence, from her hot pink heels to velvet ears, but her shadow cut deeply into the guilty scene. She couldn't see what was wrong, but her ears were perked suspiciously.

"Mickey started the opening ceremonies." Minnie finally said, un-squinting her long eyelashes. "Line up alphabetically Ladies. Just like we practiced. By first name."

"Miss Minnie." Aurora and Ariel drooled, half crouched over the legendary mouse. "Miss Minnie, it's an honor. _Such_ an honor! Please…don't we look splendid? What do you really think?"

Minnie's eyes flickered. Here lips seemed engaged in a tug-of-war game, as if her mouth was holding back what she really thought. Her gaze swept across the flustered dressing room, but the source of commotion was blocked by miles of chiffon skirts.

"Follow me." Minnie said stiffly. Spinning militaristically on her heel, Minnie Mouse marched the procession of princesses to the grand ballroom where Mickey waited.

Snow White floated from the dressing room with careless consideration for the disaster she left behind. After all, she was the first Disney Princess, thus deserved every reward Mickey had to offer. She _was_ the fairest in all the land. And she would not allow anyone, not even a little girl, to dispute that.

Obediently, the other princesses followed Snow White. Only Mulan, goaded by Merida, silently placed a towel in Wendy's lap to express her empathy.

Wendy buried her head, letting the tears dampen the towel.

"It's not fair!" she cried into the towel. "I can't be pretty! I can't be beautiful! I can't be a princess! I can't. I can't. I can't!"

Smudging the rest of the horrible makeup off her skin, Wendy ripped her nightgown from the rack. As the hanger swung, she ran to the pink door.

But before she reached the handle, the door opened.

And smiling there, black eyes sparkling, was Peter Pan.


	3. Chpt 3: The Naked Truth

**Chapter 3: The Naked Truth**

Without introduction, Peter pounced through the doorway. Wendy had a moment of surprise to see Peter in sleek dinner-wear before the boy rose into the air and covered her eyes.

"No peeking!" Peter laughed, rocking her head playfully. "I've got a surprise!"

Wendy put her hands over his. She was never happier to see Peter. They had been best friends since co-staring in Peter's movie (that's what he called it).

It would be a lie to say that she hadn't been a little taken with Peter when they first met. True to character on and off the screen, Peter was carefree as immortality and potent as a rouge comet. And although his conceit sufficiently smudged out any infatuations, Wendy still occasionally blushed when he winked that elfin face her way. But, Peter was in most respects a boy, content to have a best friend to share adventures and play pretend.

Peter and Wendy had always spent the _Disney_ Golden Awards together, pretending to have met for the very first time, sporting flutes of _Gingerale_ which might as well have been Champaign. Feigning jealously, Peter would make faces as Wendy cooed at the Disney princes, then pompously sneak her away before the couples awards would start. The night would end with a ride on_ Peter's Pan Flight, _followed by a real flight to the tip of Cinderella's castle as the firework finale shivered against a backdrop of stars.

After Wendy was nominated, Peter had eased her anxiety with a catalog of bad jokes and the promise of blowing raspberries at her competitors.

"Then we'll just do everything we always do." Peter had said, flying upside down with a goofy grin. "After you loose. Okay?"

She had smiled and agreed.

Peter was a good friend. A little childish and mischievous perhaps, but a good friend. And warmed though she was by his excitement, Wendy still wanted to go home. She just wanted to run away.

"Peter." Wendy slipped her fingers under his palms. "Thank you. But I'm not – "

"Hey! Hey! Easy there Tiger!" Peter's hands clamped over her eyes like clams. "I said no peeking little lady. Just take a couple steps this way…"

"Peter. I'm not going downstairs. I can't go out there."

Peter laughed, clearly unperturbed. "Oh, is that right? Why not? Two steps to the left…"

Wendy frowned as his chest bumped against her head. He smelled like crisp forest air and pine cones.

"Nothing." she said defensively, feeling the floor with her toes. "I just – "

"Probably because you don't have anything fancy to wear, right?"

Indignation burned in her cheeks. Wendy squeezed the blue nightgown. Peter sounded quite delighted at the deficiency of her wardrobe. Wendy had been angry with the cruel princess prank, but now…now she was hurt.

"I need to go." Wendy managed to whisper miserably. She pulled at his hands. "I just need to go home, Peter."

"No, no, no." Peter pressed closer, holding his hands over her eyes. "I told you, I have a surprise. Just a step closer. One more…All right…ready…Now!"

Peter's hands flew back like an orchestra conductor before floating to Wendy's shoulders.

The light was disorienting. Rubbing her eyes, Wendy blinked at Peter's surprise.

Her jaw dropped. "Is this…?"

"For you!" Peter announced triumphantly, pushing her closer, "It's a dress!"

It was a dress. The icy blue bodice was frosted over with a shimmering sequence that fell across the gown like star dust. Undertones of seafoam and topaz accented the bursting skirt with the smallest movement, promising a rainbow of blues when put to dance.

Wendy was speechless.

Peter, formerly proud as a rooster, became crestfallen at her silence. Deflating, he lifted both hands from Wendy's shoulders. "…You don't like it."

"No… Wendy breathed. The dress shimmered under her hovering fingers. "I mean no. I mean yes. I mean …it's beautiful."

Peter's ears perked. "Ha! The cleverness of me! I knew it! Ha! Oh the clev- er - ness of me!"

"I…I've never…" Wendy trembled, as if touching the gown would spoil the fabric. "I've never…had anything…so…beautiful."

Peter beamed. Puffing like a king bullfrog the boy surveyed his handiwork with utmost delight and self congratulations. The dress was perfect. He knew it was the moment that strange little Edna Mode adult displayed her collection. Peter had demanded the dress; it was worth its weight in pixie dust because…well because it matched the color of Wendy's eyes.

Peter smiled. He was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, like a wolf on a hunt. Dizzy with excitement Peter stepped into Wendy, impatient to see her in the beautiful dress.

"Come on, Wendy!" Peter said happily. Reaching, around Wendy's waist he untied her sash, "Try it on!"

"What—Peter!"

Wendy spun. Panicked, she lurched away. But in the messy exchange, Peter's hands became tangled. And the bathrobe slipped off Wendy's shoulders.

"Peter!" Wendy cried throwing her arms over her chest and slamming against the wall, "What are you—" She choked as the robe fell off her thin body and crumpled onto her feet.

Peter froze.

Time was immobilized as the children stared at each other, on brink of something neither had expected but were beginning to understand.

Peter was the first to move.

His eyes traced up the girl's small figure. Her long legs, bare back, hidden chest, and big, frightened blue eyes.

And then he ran.

He ran, slamming the pink door behind him, and racing by Charlotte LaBouffe.

"Land sakes!" Catching the ruffles in her skirt as Peter breezed by, the southern belle shook her head. Adjusting the pink chiffon, Charlotte bustled into the princess dressing room. "Land sakes, boys will be bo - oh my. Honey. Honeylamb, what happened?"

Swooping in like a mother hen, Lottie covered the girl shivering in her delicates. And perhaps it was prying, but Charlotte thought it peculiar when the girl denied to be shivering from the cold.


End file.
